


do not weep, for war is kind

by eyesonly



Series: FiKi Week 2018 [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, War Recovery, mentions of past injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 02:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15208607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesonly/pseuds/eyesonly
Summary: The anniversary of the reclamation of Erebor is hard on the brothers. This year is particularly hard on one.





	do not weep, for war is kind

**Author's Note:**

> For FiKi Week 2018. Day 1: Realizations or Anniversary. I am filling the anniversary prompt.

It was a day of celebration for the dwarves of Erebor. Music was to ring in the halls. Dramatic plays of fantastic victory were performed. Food and drink were to be shared and consumed in excess. It was a day many regaled. 

It was also a day that a few despised with their very being.

When Kili awoke, he was a bit confused to find himself completely alone. He figured his brother must be off with some business. 

His brother was the head diplomat to not only Dale and the other dwarven lands, but Mirkwood leading to relatively positive relations between the two rival races. He had forgone his lineage, happily passing the responsibility to Dain, a dwarf who truly desired to be a king and in power. Dain had passed five years prior. His son, Thorin Stonehelm, had become the new king. 

The two brothers remained close advisors to their cousin, both not having the same desires of public recognition and leadership. They were content to serve their people from the background. 

It wasn’t until Kili was dressed for the day and entering the open halls of Erebor did he realize what day it was. 

“Prince Kili! Mahal has blessed us with another festive Day of Reclamation! Where is your brother?” One of the chambermaids, Fulla, pleasantly catches his arm, handing him a warm pastry.

Kili takes the pastry with a slightly worried look.

“I was just going to try to find him, you haven’t seen him today?”

“No sir, I’ll let you know right away if I see him though?”

“No, Fulla, it’s alright. Thank you, please enjoy your day,” he gives a soft bow respectfully.

The halls are bustling and he finds himself unable to think, much less focus on finding his brother. He feels almost surrounded with the amount of dwarves giving him well wishes, thanking him for his ancestral duties, for being such a brave and noble warrior in the face of defeat.

These sentiments made him feel sick almost every year. He didn’t feel brave or noble. He didn’t feel like the victor. Sure they won Erebor, but he felt like he nearly lost everything else.

Year after year, there is one place he knows where he can find solace. Where he is certain his brother is in that very moment.

He enters into the Hall of Scribes to see the worried face of his old friend, Ori. His own beard had grown and was growing more grey than red as he moved into his second century.

“Kili! Thank goodness you’re here...he won’t talk to me, I didn’t know if you knew-” Kili puts up a placating hand to silence the scribe.

“Thank you, Ori. Can you please make sure no one enters?” He asks his voice even, despite his the buzzing energy within himself.

Ori nods and hurries off, leaving Kili to find his brother.

Kili slowly walks the length of the hall, looking down every aisle of organized scrolls and tablets. He nears the end when he finally sees the huddled mass against one of the far walls. While his heart tells him to run, he carefully walks down the aisle, nearly tripping over a strong cane of oak and a leg forged of iron. 

He looks over to see his brother sitting, hugging his one leg to his chest.

“Oh, Fili…”

Kili sits next to his brother and wordlessly pulls him into his chest. It doesn’t take long for him to feel the smaller frame softly shaking from silent sobs.

He presses a kiss to his brother’s golden hair. Beautiful golden hair that refused to grey. Despite the years, the stress, the pain of its owner, his hair had never changed.

“ _Givashel_ , why didn’t you wake me?” He whispers softly, gently rocking his brother’s body.

“You looked peaceful. I didn’t want to ruin your sleep because of my...patheticness.”

“Stop, you know you aren’t pathetic. I know this is a hard day. It is every year. I haven’t seen you this upset in so long, nadad…”

“It’s been eighty-three years, Kili.”

Kili pauses, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“...yes, it has been.”

“I’ve officially spent more of my life in Erebor than Ered Luin. More of my life without my leg than with it. More of my life without Thorin than with him. More of my life as some celebrated veteran of a war that...I-I never wanted to be in,” his voice his shaky and breaks at the end.

Kili has no words. He knows nothing he can say will change any of those things. He knows how hard losing his leg was. It was so broken from the fall. So far beyond repair…

Losing Thorin was something they both still struggled with but it had grown easier over time. Dain was just as paternal and provided guidance during his life, but now they were becoming the elder dwarves of the kingdom and the change of roles was nerve wracking at times for the brothers.

“It is hard, _nadad_. I know. But we are here. Together. Not even Mahal himself could separate us. There are many reasons for tears on this day. I miss Thorin, I miss _amad_ ,” His own tears leak down and fall into his own full dark beard, just starting to be touched with the whiting of age. 

“But I have you, out of everything I could have lost and have lost, I still have you, Fili.”

Fili looks up at his brother. His eyes are bloodshot making the deep blue stand out more.

“You’ll always have me, Kili. I’m sorry, I upset you.”

Kili presses a kiss to his forehead and then to his lips, clinging onto the warmth, the life, of his brother.

“You didn’t. I just wish after all these years you would know that I want to be at your side, no matter good or bad.”

Fili manages to smile a bit at that.

“Forgive me. There is still part of me that want to protect my precious _nadadith_ from my own sadness.”

“Then on days like these I am not your _nadadith_ , I am your _âzyungâl_ as you are mine. Let me in, Fili. Let me hold some of your sadness,” Kili’s voice is soft, yet earnest. He rests his hand over Fili’s squeezing gently.

When Ori finally cannot help himself any longer, he silently peers around the aisle and smiles at the sight of the two princes, foreheads pressed together mourning silently together.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr @ deanogarbage


End file.
